London Falling (Falling #2)(60)
The only hope I held onto was that Collier would be at the wedding and I’d steal a chance to speak with him. Corner him somewhere. Get Oliver to help. Maybe Nate. Anyone.
Explaining what happened that night was important. Even if he didn’t listen and still wanted nothing to do with me, not having a chance to explain was hell on my conscience.
“Bridge, we’ll be landing soon.” Tripp held my hand. I squeezed it in return and continued to stare out the window, lost in my own thoughts.
Tripp had been giving me space after that horrible night when I left Collier to tend to him. When I found Tripp at the party in a scuzzy broken-down warehouse, two barely-dressed coked out skanks were rubbing all over him. White powder still sprinkled the table in front of his spread legs. I’d lost it. I went straight psycho on his ass.
One girl had her hand down his pants and the other was trying to get him to smoke crank or coke, God only knows what, out of a pipe she literally held at his lips. Her bare tits and the pipe were waving in front of my poor Tripp’s face like a veritable feast of sin and sex.
I broke three fingers punching skank number one in the face, knocking the pipe out of her hands. Even now, the three fingers on my right hand were taped together.
The wedding planner freaked out as if I’d committed a cardinal sin by breaking my fingers, more concerned about perfect wedding photos than my health. Tripp had served as a nursemaid and personal calligrapher since I was unable to write well with just the use of my thumb and forefinger.
Finishing off Dylan’s home reveal had been painstakingly difficult. The end result was incredible and Dylan couldn’t be more pleased.
The same night Tripp went to an after party with Skank 1 and Skank 2, Dylan had a very successful night out on the town. Not only did he come home with six different girl’s phone numbers, he actually brought home a woman he met at the bar.
They had a wonderful night partaking of each other’s bodies. Come sunup, she went on her merry way. Dylan couldn’t have been happier. Not only did he have a night of amazing guilt-free sex, he felt revived and attractive to the opposite sex with renewed interested in living life.
Now he knew there was more he needed to experience than just accounting and rolling in the dough. My job was done. Happy client. Mission accomplished.
Then why did I feel like rubbish? Rubbish. Collier would say rubbish. London says garbage or trash. Six weeks of knowing my sexy Englishman and I had already picked up his lingo.
“Hey, London, you okay?” Aspen came over and sat down. Her baby bump was visible in the tight sweater and slacks she wore. Her eyes shone against the angora sweater matching her gray eyes. They reminded me of a crystal diamond with edges that sparkled in the light. Her golden hair was pulled back into a smart pony tail. She must have done her own hair today. Ollie did not make a habit of simple hairdos. No, he’d have twisted, curled and pulled magic out of his ass to make her look like she was the winning contestant in a hair contest.
Speaking of the devil. Oliver glided into the seat next to Aspen, across from me and Tripp. “Is the maid of honor unable to do her duties? You know I’m ready to jump right in with two shakes of a lambs tail.” His smile was laced with mischief. If he wasn’t my sister’s best friend in the entire world, and one of my best friends by proxy, I’d consider an evil pinch to his thigh.
Oliver continued, “Wait until you see the lambs, London. They are so white and poufy!” His eyes lit and Aspen smiled, bumping his shoulder affectionately.
“I’m fine, Sis. Yes, Ollie, I’m perfectly capable of handling my duties as my sister’s right hand woman, unlike some people who have to stand for sloppy seconds.” I gave in to my desire to lighten my heartache for a bit.
Oliver looked panicked. “Oh my, God. Aspen? Is that what I am? No better than a Sloppy Joe with soggy buns?”
“Really, London? You had to mess with him? With this wedding in two days, he’s a complete mess. You’d think he was the one getting married.” Aspen rolled her eyes and blew her long swooping bangs to the side.
“We are getting married. Remember? You, me and the hunky cowboy. Oh, and my fireman.” Ollie clapped and winked across the plane to where Dean and Hank were deep in conversation about which football team would make it to the Superbowl this year. Of course Hank was convinced the Cowboys were a sure thing, but Dean wasn’t buying it.
“I heard that, buddy. You are not marrying my woman. Cut the crap.”
“Oh stuff it big boy!” Ollie squealed. “How many times do I have to tell you she was mine first!” Point for Ollie. He was right. Hank harrumphed and continued chatting with Dean.
“Do you see what I’m dealing with? It’s been nothing but bicker, bicker, bicker with these two. Ever since we announced the wedding and the baby, the two of them have been at each other’s throats with the jokes and barbs.”
“You realize that’s how normal brothers act toward one another, right? We just don’t communicate enough with Rio to have that type of relationship. Mostly because he’s a stuck up rich boy.” I laughed.
“I guess you have a point. I never thought of it that way. Maybe they bonded in a way I wasn’t aware of,” Aspen answered as she watched them verbally throw arrows at one another. I thought it was cute.
Finally, Hank and Oliver understood the other’s place in my sister’s life. It was refreshing. Yes, it had to be annoying as hell for her, dealing with two very demonstrative personalities, but their arguing was harmless. A lot of things were going to change once that baby came. Hopefully they’d all change for the better. I couldn’t wait to be an Aunt and spoil the baby rotten.